


Make Me Your Maria (I'm Already On My Knees)

by snicklefritz



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Becketcest - Freeform, Established Relationship, French-speaking Beckets, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-16 00:12:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1324531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snicklefritz/pseuds/snicklefritz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's a little friendly competition between siblings?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Your Maria (I'm Already On My Knees)

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I am just super-into writing blowjobs right now, I gotta move past that. This whole thing is an exercise in silliness, wow. Again, based off a conversation with somethingnerdythiswaycomes (IF YOU THINK I AM AN ENABLER TAKE A LOOK IN THE MIRROR HONEY). Title from “Bedroom Hymns” by Florence and the Machine. All of the French is from google translate, if there are any mistakes with it, or any other section of the story, let me know and I’ll sort it out. Translations at the bottom. And a gratuitous Lilo and Stitch reference. (I'M AN ONLY CHILD I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SIBLINGS)

Raleigh woke up even before the alarm on his phone went off, bright-eyed and alert. Predictably, Yancy was buried beneath the covers, dead to the world, one arm thrown possessively over Raleigh’s hips. Raleigh elbowed him gently in the ribs.

“Yancy. Yancy. Yaaaaa-ncyyyyy. Yance. _Yancy_.”

Yancy lifts his head, eyes barely open, and manages to murmur “ _Dégage_ ,” before burrowing his head underneath his pillow. 

Raleigh tugged the pillow out of Yancy’s grip, revealing mussed hair and blanket creases on the side of Yancy’s face. It was a look that Raleigh never got tired of seeing, and he leaned down to press an indulgent kiss to Yancy’s cheek. 

“Aw, you don’t really mean that, do you bro?” he teased. Yancy swatted at him, eyes still closed, groaning in his sleep.

“Seriously, we gotta get up, we’ve got that Vanity Fair interview today.”

Yancy finally opened his eyes, only to look up at Raleigh in abject horror. “ _No_ ,” he gasped. “No, that _can’t_ be today.”

Raleigh picked up the phone and pulled up the event calendar, where that day’s date was highlighted, in all-caps, “VANITY FAIR, 9 A.M.”. Yancy let out another dramatic groan and clung to Raleigh’s side. 

“Call in sick,” he ordered. “Tell them you caught it through the drift.”

“Yance, that’s not possible-”

“We need a morning off.”

Raleigh ran a lazy hand through Yancy’s hair, listening to the breathy little sigh he made at the contact. “Which I’m totally for, but hey, it’s part of the job.”

Yancy huffed. “I know, I know.” He raised his arms over his head and stretched, head tipped back against the pillow and back arched against the mattress, and though the gesture itself was innocent, the images conjured in Raleigh’s mind certainly weren’t. Yancy must have sensed it, because he smiled up at Raleigh just a little too sweetly before he rolled over to straddle Raleigh’s waist, morning wood digging into Raleigh’s hip. Raleigh instinctively bucked up and Yancy grinned, catching Raleigh’s lips in a lingering kiss. 

“As much… as I’d… _love_ to, _ah_ \- we have prior- _oh_ ,” Raleigh gasped into Yancy’s mouth between kisses, “engagements.”

“Killjoy,” Yancy said, somehow managing to pout as he sucked on Raleigh’s bottom lip. “Since when are _you_ the responsible one?”

Raleigh snuck his hands under the hem of Yancy’s shirt and ran his fingers over the curves of Yancy’s back, over the place he knew the spine of the drivesuits fit, and delighted in the way Yancy shivered under so light a touch. “Whoever said I’m responsible?”

Yancy smiled and licked into his mouth, grinding his hips down torturously, but then suddenly he leaned away and stood up off the bed, looking down at Raleigh with a sly expression.

“We should probably get ready if we don’t want to be late, kiddo,” he said, grinning, the effect ruined by the way he yawned and rubbed at his eyes. Raleigh threw a pillow at him.

“Fucking _tease_ ,” he said, but Yancy was already shuffling to the bathroom, paying him no mind. “You just wanted the shower first.”

Yancy turned around, smiling predatorily, and walked back towards the bed; he leaned down and gripped Raleigh’s wrists, effectively pinning him to the bed.

“How about I make you a deal?” Yancy murmured, nipping at the shell of Raleigh’s ear. “You keep a straight face for the entire interview, and I’ll blow you until you can’t remember your own name.”

Raleigh’s heart leapt into his throat at the sudden image of Yancy on his knees, and he _knows ___Yancy noticed the way his fingers are gripping at the sheets. “And if I lose?”

“ _When_ you lose,” Yancy corrected, and Raleigh rolled his eyes. “You get to blow _me_.”

“You’re on,” Raleigh said, and he felt Yancy smile into the side of his neck.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The interview wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before; same questions, same too-nice clothes, same basic poses and expressions. But Raleigh _really_ should have expected Yancy to cheat. 

The photographer had Raleigh sitting in a nondescript chair, elbows on his knees, staring directly into the lens. Raleigh had his Model Game Face on, the one Rolling Stones had described as ‘an intense smolder’ and Yancy described as ‘a constipated frog’. Yancy was standing behind him, arm resting lightly on the chair back, and Raleigh was so focused on staring into the camera that he let out an undignified yelp when Yancy leaned down and licked the shell of his ear.

“What the hell?” he said, nearly falling out of the chair. Yancy stuck out his tongue.

“You were staring at that camera like you were trying to melt it with your mind,” Yancy said smugly, and Raleigh glared at him. He settled back into his pose, more determined than ever to keep his game face on, and Yancy allowed the photographer to reposition him. The photographer managed to get in a few shots before Yancy snuck hand down Raleigh’s side and pinched him just above the hip. Raleigh bit his lip, never taking his eyes off the camera, and elbowed Yancy in the waist, just once. Yancy elbowed him back, and the next thing Raleigh knew it had dissolved into a half-playful back and forth of elbowing and slapping each other.

“Guys?” the photographer chimed in. “Uh, guys? We really need you to-”

Yancy leaned in close to Raleigh’s ear and murmured, "Je ne vais pas te laisser gagner, mon frère,"

"Quoi, tu as peur de ne pas pouvoir tenir ta promesse?" Raleigh retorted, standing up and ducking underneath Yancy’s arm. Someone from wardrobe and makeup bustled over to fix the barely noticeable creases in their suits and powder over their flushed cheeks. The photographer nixed the chair and posed them back to back, arms crossed, staring directly into the camera. 

“You’re doing great guys, this’ll probably make the cover!” the photographer exclaimed, happily clicking away at his camera. Raleigh glanced back quickly to catch Yancy’s eye, and the mad grin on his brother’s face was the only warning he got before Yancy stood on the tip of his toes and practically threw himself backwards, pressing Raleigh down until he was almost bent in half under his brother’s weight. 

“Oh no!” Yancy cried, one hand dramatically thrown over his heart. “Gravity is increasing on me! I can’t stand up anymore!”

Raleigh recognized the scene; God, they’d probably watched that movie a thousand times. He felt his composure break and he grinned from ear to ear, laughing at Yancy’s antics. 

“You cheating bastard!” Raleigh said, laughing as he shouldered Yancy back up into a standing position. “I’m gonna make you regret that.”

“Big talk for a little brother,” Yancy said smugly, elbowing Raleigh in the ribs again. 

The photographer put his head in his hands, and Raleigh thought he heard the man say in despair, “I could have been photographing glaciers in Reykjavik, but _noooo_ , I had to have more _dynamic_ subjects.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They don’t even make it back to their bed. The second the hotel door is shut and locked behind them Raleigh shoved Yancy up against the door and kissed him hard, hands curling around the lapels of Yancy’s coat to keep him in place. Yancy grinned into the kiss, smug bastard that he is, and reached down to squeeze Raleigh’s ass, earning a groan and a bit lip from Raleigh. 

“To the winner, the spoils,” Yancy said, and Raleigh rolled his eyes and dropped to his knees. He’s not totally sure if Yancy is the winner here or himself, but as he unzipped Yancy’s jeans and yanked down his boxers, he couldn’t help but grin. He may have lost the contest but he’ll take the consolation prize of Yancy’s cock, already standing at attention. He rubbed his hands up and down Yancy’s thighs, taking his time and licking a long slow stripe up the underside of Yancy’s cock.

“Who’s the tease now, huh?” Yancy said, and for that Raleigh moved even slower, mouthing feather light over the head of Yancy’s cock, just to see him squirm. He could hear Yancy’s breath getting shorter and shorter, and when Raleigh finally took Yancy fully into his mouth and swallowed him down, Yancy stopped breathing entirely. 

_“Jesus Christ,”_ he heard Yancy murmur, and Raleigh felt a swell of pride expand in his chest. He bobbed his head up and down, taking Yancy in as deep as he could, his ears straining to hear every little noise Yancy made. He could feel the strain in Yancy’s thighs as he tried not to buck up into Raleigh’s mouth, but that wouldn’t do, not at all; Raleigh blindly reached up until he found Yancy’s hands and placed them on his head, fingers gripping and tugging at his hair until they worked out a rhythm. 

He realized, somewhat hazily, that they’re ghost drifting, moving so totally in sync that he can anticipate every snap of Yancy’s hips, that the pleasure coursing through his body wasn’t totally his; he wouldn’t be surprised if their racing heartbeats matched. It’s not the first time they’ve ghost drifted during sex, but it will never not feel strange, to feel both the stiffness in his knees and the handle of the doorknob digging into the small of his back, a counterpoint to the taste of Yancy in his mouth and the sensation of warm wet heat along his own cock. 

Yancy’s murmuring his name, a litany, a mantra, _RaleighRaleighRaleigh_. He looked up and Yancy’s eyes were zeroed down on him, the signature Becket blue drowned out by his blown out pupils, and Raleigh couldn’t look away if his life depended on it. 

_“Raleigh,”_ Yancy breathed, a warning, a confession, a declaration; his back arched off the door and he was spilling down Raleigh’s throat, hot and thick, and Raleigh’s vision went white as he followed suit. 

When he could string an actual thought together, he pulled away and slumped against Yancy’s hip, his chest heaving. Yancy’s hands were still on his head, rubbing soothing circles into his hair, trembling fingers ghosting against the side of his face until Raleigh looked up. He could feel the pull of Yancy’s mind against his own, and he stood, still leaning heavily against his brother. Yancy drew him in close, kissing him breathlessly; he knew Yancy enjoyed the taste of himself on Raleigh’s tongue, that it fed into the small but strong possessive streak Yancy had. Raleigh was so blissed out he couldn’t quite tell where his thoughts ended and Yancy’s began, his brain swirling with _I’myoursyou’reminethisisusIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou._

Raleigh smiled against Yancy’s lips. “I call shower first.”

Yancy sluggishly smacked his shoulder. “We were having a _moment_ , you brat.”

“Then I vote we have a new moment _in the shower,_ ” Raleigh said, and Yancy huffed in annoyance before he pulled Raleigh in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation (again, I apologize for any mistakes, I do not speak French):
> 
> Baise toi: Fuck you
> 
> Je ne vais pas tu laisser gagner, mon frère: I won't let you win, my brother.
> 
> Pourquoi, peur que tu ne pouvez pas livrer?: Why, scared you can't deliver?


End file.
